Brothers Nahuatl
by meggochondria
Summary: Argonian brothers are bound for life, but one falls to the temptation of Darkness. Can his brother, the dragonborn, save him?
1. Weakness in Temptation

Brothers Nahuatl

Weakness in Temptation

I sat up in my bed quickly and stole a glance at Vox across the room. He was turned on his side and snoring quietly. I swung my legs over the bed and stood up silently, ducking low. My breathing was shallow and ragged as I made my way across the room, trying my hardest not to wake him.

We'd just gotten back from clearing out the cave with the hagraven and our prize lay safely in the trunk in the corner of the room. I opened the trunk and pulled out the orcish sword with care. The slightly green blade glinted red in the light. I swung it slowly and silently, watching it slice through the air with ease.

A grunt from Vox startled me and my scales stood up slightly in their place. What I was doing was wrong and absurd… I was betraying my own brother. The beauty of the sword consumed me and I knew if I didn't take it then I would never have it. I crossed my own brother for the lust of the blade.

I left the room silently, ashamed of myself, but also proud. A stinging in my heart pulled me to go back, but I ignored it. Nothing, not even my own brother, was going to keep me from something so powerful. I fled Markarth that night, never to see my brother again.

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A year had gone by without a word from him. No letters, no couriers catching me by the arm—nothing. I assumed he never tried to find me, not after what I did. Nor did I _desire_ to find him.

I now resided in Windhelm in the north eastern corner of Skyrim. I assumed that if I was this far away from everything else, I would be safe from him, but it turns out that fate thought differently. Comically.

This day was different than any other. I felt it when I woke up, not shortly after shoving a Breton—yes, Breton—woman from my bed. I was a loner. An outsider. I took jobs as I could get them and lived off of the money I made from that. I made weapons and sold those too. I had no friends, nor did I give an effort to make any. Money, woman and drink were my three vices now in this life.

But today, like I said, was different. I shoved the Breton woman off my bed. She wasn't happy.

"Rasha, what the fuck was that?" She hissed at me. Her eyes searched me angrily. I simply stared at her. "You're going to sit there and watch me, aren't you?" She stalked over to me and raised her hand, but brought it back down. "I will never understand you. I put all of my feelings out there for you. You know how I feel. This is how you treat me? WHY?" She screamed at me. I shrugged and grabbed the bottle from my nightstand, taking a healthy swig.

"I'm a being incapable of feeling, Miri", I sighed and laid back down on the bed. I wasn't about to deal with her bullshit. I'd known her for about a month and she had snaked her way into my life through bribery. I didn't know why a Breton woman would desire to sleep with a sulky lizard like me. I looked nothing like her kind, but for some reason…she liked me. I had abandoned Orla the night that I abandoned Vox. My wife…I'd received one letter from her by chance. She was begging me to come back to her and referred to how Vox had lost himself completely once or twice, but I regarded it with apathy. I didn't care anymore. I'd chosen my new life and I didn't plan on going back for the sake of my wife or my brother. They meant nothing to me anymore. I felt as though I was nothing, thus I was.

"You- you're…", she held out her finger to me and pointed. "You disgust me, Rasha. I don't know why I come back to you." She slapped me across the face and then turned around. I barely felt it. Her hand felt warm against my cool scales and I longed for her to leave it there, but why would she? She stormed out of the room and down the hall. I laid back down on the bed and sighed, folding my hands behind my head.

I drifted off to sleep for I don't know how long, but I awoke to the sound of footsteps running down the hallway.

"Get up! Anyone who can fight, get up!" My eyes snapped open and I glared at the closed door. How dare they make noise while I sleep…I stood up from the bed and opened it a crack, staring into the dimly lit hallway. A nord ran by and I grunted at him. He turned around and peered into my face.

"What's going on? Doesn't anyone know what time it is?" I hissed at him.

"A d-dragon. A dragon is attacking just outside the city. Do you have weapons?" he searched my face frantically for answers and my jaw dropped to the floor. I'd only heard rumors of the dragons and I didn't believe they'd really come back. Still, the worst was yet to come. I ran back into the room and pulled on my steel armor, tightening the straps. I grabbed my bow and quiver and strung it to my back then tied my sheathed sword to my waist. I ran from the room, blinking sleep from my eyes and then sprinted out of the inn into the old stone city.

Guards were pouring through the main door and just across the bridge leading into the city was a dragon. It circled behind the closest mountain and came back into view, screeching and breathing flames. The trees beneath it erupted and the smoke billowed towards the city. I froze in my tracks and stared at it in awe. Spikes protruded from its back its claws were thick and caked with blood. Or what I assumed was blood. I barely caught a glimpse of it as it dove over me. I ran across the bridge and pulled my bow from my back, nocking an arrow and sending it flying in the dragon's directions. A group of men had assembled at the edge of the bridge and I joined them.

The dragon circled once more and landed, hissing and breathing fire. Several of the men retreated, leaving myself, a couple other guards and an unidentified soldier to kill it. He wore an elaborate looking helmet with horns protruding from its surface. His face was covered by the front and he raised his sword viciously, taking the dragon head-on. The guards and I followed in suit. I unsheathed my orcish sword and brought it down across the dragons scales as hard as I could. Its tail whipped back and forth, sending guards flying through the air effortlessly; as if they weighed nothing. Another was eaten alive. The dragon snapped its jaws several times, but its wings were damaged severely so it was grounded. Finally, it threw its head back and a disgusting screech escaped its throat, making scales raise all across my body. Its head fell to the ground a with a loud crack; several of the bones in its skull must have broken. I turned around and rubbed the newly achieved burn on my arm with care. I retreated several feet from the dragon and watched it silently as it burst into flames. Its skin crackled and the ash disappeared flying into the air. I turned to leave, but something caught my attention. A rush of wind sped past me, nearly taking my breath and orange and yellow lights flew from the dragon's bones. The light surrounded the figure with the ornate helmet and then died down as quickly as it came. Several of the soldiers around me stared in awe at the man and only then did I notice that he wasn't a man at all. He was an Argonian.

"The dragonborn…he is among us", one of the soldiers whispered to himself. "His shout is so powerful, he can force a dragon to land." The soldier stretched his arms and hands, as if the lights had made him stronger.

"The dragonborn. He is dragonborn", another spoke up. I eyed the Argonian curiously and crossed the distance between us, stopping when he removed his helmet. The curve of his horns was all too familiar and my mouth fell open out of shock. I choked on my words and turned around quickly, my breathing coming short.

"Rasha, calm down. It's not him. It's not", I said to myself, shaking my head furiously. I looked over my shoulder to see the Dragonborn staring at me. His voice came weakly from the silence and I dropped my eyes with shame.

"Brother?"


	2. Forgiveness

Forgiveness

"Brother?" Vox stared at me incredulously, reaching out his hand and then retracting it. His expression was unreadable and the green-tinged blood started rushing to my head and roaring through my ears. Everything felt muted and quiet. I hadn't seen him in almost two years.

Vox took a step towards me, wrapping me in his scaled arms and laughing.

"Brother! It's been so long", he held me out at arms length and stared at me. "You look like shit."

"I wasn't exactly prepared for a dragon attack when I was aroused from my bed this morning", I said slightly under my breath. If the dragon's bones hadn't remained, I'm not sure I would have believed what had happened just moments before. I was still in shock from the fact that my brother was standing in front of me. I wanted to run… or kill myself. In the moment, I couldn't decide which; both seemed legitimate and viable options. He'd been like an apparition ever since I left.

"Gods bless, you're alive. Orla and I thought you were dead", he laughed and pulled my neck towards him with the crook of his arm.

"I…" was all I could bring myself to say. He sighed and just shook his head.

"I really did think you were dead." The soldiers standing around us just stared in awe and one of the shorter men approached with a bloodied sword.

"Your sword, dovahkiin", he bowed and held the sword out. I stared at Vox with utter shock. I'd heard the guards muttering about it when the dragon fell, but I hadn't really been paying attention.

"Vox-"

"We'll discuss it over a drink. The slaying of a dragon and the saving of a city is certainly worth having a drink over, don't you think, brother?" He smiled that used-to-be familiar toothy grin and dragged me by the neck to the pub inside of Windhelm.

Candlehearth was as crowded as I'd ever seen it and the talk of the bar floor that night was the slaying. I led Vox towards the back of the inn's bottom floor to a small table shoved into the corner. The women were dancing, the bards were singing and the men were wooing. Per usual.

Everyone was celebrating, so why did I feel like I wasn't?

I sat down at the table and stared at the wood, starting to carve a small argonian symbol into it with my claw.

"I'm so sorr-"

"Don't", Vox said, his easy disposition gone in a split second. "I know how you feel. I can see it in your eyes. After you left, I went back to the hagraven's haven and tore through the entire cave, searching for some logical reason that you would-…I managed to find an ancient scroll written in an extinct Dunmer tongue."

"You-"

"The sword was cursed, Rasha. The blade, when it was crafted, was laced with Etur and a number of other spells. The wielder is given strength, but with strength comes the desire for destruction. The blade corrupted you. I couldn't blame you. How could I? My only want was to find you, save you from that horror." I looked down at my waist at my sword and then back up at Vox. He was right.

"And…Orla?" I felt a stab of guilt hit me all of a sudden.

"I told her I'd lost you in the caves." Another stab of guilt. I looked at the wooden floor and her worried expression plastered across the backs of my eyelids; her eyes wide as ever, pleading me to stay in Markarth for one more night with her. _I can't. Vox and I are scavenging again._ I cursed myself for ever saying those words to her.

Having the sword in my possession caused me to lust for blood; I wanted war. I wanted to kill. Killing was the sole reason I joined the Dark Brotherhood. I was still a part of it, but Astrid had been silent for over a month now. She'd dropped contact with me due to lack of effort on my part. Nahir hasn't given me any new contracts in awhile. Hell, I hadn't seen even them in months. I tended to disappear quite frequently. Babette found me once, but I held hear by the throat and threatened to break her neck if she gave up my location. The weight of the sword on my waist felt phantom-like to me in the memory.

"Cursed…" I pulled the sword out of its holster slightly, rubbing the blade with my thumb longingly.

"I had to find you so I could destroy it", he folded his fingers in front of him and he too looked down at my blade.

"Oh…" I shook my head. This incredible unease settled on my stomach as he said it. _My sword…destroyed? He can't destroy it._

Another voice perked up in my mind as if I was talking to myself. _Don't let him control you. The sword is yours. You fought for it. You took it. You deserve to have it._ I felt torn between my wants and I looked down at my waist once more, hating the sight of it.

"We have to destroy it. It doesn't seem to have taken its full effect on you. Rasha…it will destroy you", he nodded solemnly. I simply stared at him and just nodded. I felt as though he'd never forgive me and this was my only chance at redemption. I reached down to my waist and un-holstered it, handing it over to him quickly before those toxic thoughts weaved their way back in my mind.

"Just take it. I can't want it", I said, dropping it on the table. "Let's destroy it."

"Rasha-"

"No, we have to be rid of it. Now that you've explained this, I can see its…it needs to be done", I looked at him resolutely and he took it from me, careful not to touch the blade.

"Now, we can really celebrate", he flagged down the innkeeper and called for two Kiterunners.


End file.
